


Here's Hoping

by an_endeavor



Series: Here's Hoping [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bahrain, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Series, Temporary Character Death, as you all know he comes back, events in avengers, events through their life if they were married, married au, may get into series stuff later
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-04-25 05:51:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14372274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/an_endeavor/pseuds/an_endeavor
Summary: Events that take place throughout the years after Melinda, having decided she was tired of dating civilians, got that drink with Phil. Married pre-series au.Phil often looked back at his relationship with Melinda. He thought about the days when they were young, unafraid of anything lurking around a dark corner. About how she teased him on their first date, how she watched him with reverence the day they eloped, the concentration on her face when she patched him up after missions. He thought about the days when they had matured, constantly looking over their shoulder for the next threat. About how empty she looked after Bahrain, how she shouted at him when he came back from the dead, the love coloring her features as she watched over him. When Melinda found him lost in thought she would help him recount some of those stories, while others they thought about in silence, throats too constricted to give voice to. These are some of those events.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not entirely sure how I feel about this chapter but I love the upcoming chapters (already written) and needed an intro so please bear with me and stick with me at least through the second chapter before you decide. I'm really excited about what I have planned for them . Thanks!

Phil often looked back at his relationship with Melinda. He thought about the days when they were young, unafraid of anything lurking around a dark corner. About how she teased him on their first date, how she watched him with reverence the day they eloped, the concentration on her face when she patched him up after missions. He thought about the days when they had matured, constantly looking over their shoulder for the next threat. About how empty she looked after Bahrain, how she shouted at him when he came back from the dead, the love coloring her features as she watched over him. When Melinda found him lost in thought she would help him recount some of those stories, while others they thought about in silence, throats too constricted to give voice to. These are some of those events.

\-------

_Years Ago._

“Nah, I still can’t believe you guys got hitched. When did you even get together?” Barton had asked as they made their way to the back of the jet. May just rolled her eyes and threw on her parachute pack, having already listened to his comments for the majority of the trip. She knew telling him was a bad idea but there wasn’t much they could do after he caught their quick kiss in the parking garage before work. They weren’t necessarily hiding their relationship but they didn’t really feel the need to broadcast it either. In this case, they decided it would be better to floor him with the knowledge that not only had he not realized they had been dating but he also missed that they were married. It was easier to turn the tables and leave him confused, wondering what he had missed, than deal with him constantly teasing them about whether or not and to what capacity they were having sex. 

“How much longer do we need to discuss this?” She questioned tiredly, her voice monotone. 

“Probably a while longer. I’m just trying to wrap my brain around it. You and Coulson. I think I might need proof or something.” He was still clearly amused with himself, having kept up this charade since the door closed in the jet, only briefly pausing because she locked herself in the cockpit to fly them out, at which point he started bothering Phil about it. 

Phil was already waiting for them in the back, the air rushing about because the door was already open, ready for them. May made her way to him without hesitation, kissing him long and deep, pressing her body to his. She gave him a wink before turning back to face Barton. 

“That proof enough for you?” She deadpanned, throwing herself out of the jet, not bothering to wait for a response. 

Coulson stood in place, disheveled, unable to hide his smug grin at the way Barton stared at him, mouth hanging open. He put his hands in his pockets and swayed to his toes and back to his heels in an attempt to remain casual, knowing May would appreciate him prolonging the nonchalant attitude at Barton’s expense. 

“She’ll start without you if you don’t jump soon.” He stated. He was only half joking, he knew his wife loved a challenge. 

“Married,” Barton muttered, more to himself, before leaping out of the jet as well.

\-----

They had met at a local dive post-mission and, it being a long night and morning, they didn’t waste time, not really even taking the time to clean up their injuries. They must have been a sight, May sporting a gash on her thigh, Barton on his eyebrow. Coulson was the only one unscathed having manned the mission from the jet. Barton’s disgruntled looks and good natured jabs didn’t stop May from tossing her injured leg over Coulson’s lap as they sat in the booth. Nor did it stop Coulson from absently caressing her calf as they continued their conversations, intermittently meeting her eyes in a silent conversation of their own. If anything, their actions led to an increase in Barton’s confusion, not understanding how he could miss something so big now at seeing how familiar they were with each other. Phil could tell she was hiding more injuries by the way she was holding herself. It would go unnoticed by everyone but having lived with her for years and having worked with her much longer, he could tell something was off. He didn’t say anything, only squeezing her ankle when he caught her internally wincing once, he knew he was going to be able to see her injuries for himself when they got home.

“How long do you think he’s going to keep this up?” She had whispered to him when Barton left for the bathroom. 

“I’d say about a week. He’ll get bored after that.” Phil shrugged, helping himself to the food off the plate she pushed away.

\-----

Both let out a sigh of relief when they finally returned home. Melinda could feel tension physically fall away from her shoulders when she stepped into their living room.

“Alright, let's see it,” Phil said dragging her into the bathroom, flicking on the bright light, “I know you’ve been hiding your other injuries.” 

She rolled her eyes at him but complied anyways, lifting her arms so he could lift her shirt over her head and toss it to the floor, wincing a little at the action. He gently prodded at her ribs, noticing the way she winced when he touched over an already darkening spot. 

“I think they’re just fractured, not broken,” he thought aloud after inspecting them a little closer. 

“I could have told you that,” she rolled her eyes at his fussing but was enjoying his close proximity. 

“Yeah but you wouldn’t have,” he admonished. 

They both had a habit of hiding their injuries and playing them off like they were nothing. After too many times of the other sucking in a sharp breath at their touch they made an agreement. When the day was over and they were alone, away from prying eyes, they would allow the other to explore their body for injury. It had occasionally been an irritant for them, especially May who didn’t like him to fuss but she obliged anyway. At this point in their relationship, it didn’t seem to bother either of them. Instead it had become an after mission ritual. 

“I need to get a better look at that gash in your leg,” he commented, already kneeling down to unwrap the bandages they had used as a quick fix. With the those removed he began unbuttoning her pants and shimmying them down to the floor. He was careful not to catch her wound on the way down, a task made more difficult by the look she was giving him as she ran her hands through his hair. He smiled fondly when she complained about her ruined pants as if she wasn’t in possession of a stab wound to the leg. Assuring himself that it wasn’t too deep and probably only needed a few stitches, he thoroughly cleaned the wound, making her smile as he unnecessarily ran his free hand up and down her leg in the process. After pressing a soft kiss to the skin just above her cut, he gave her calf a squeeze to signal he was done. 

“You gonna let me stitch you up when you’re done in the shower?” He asked, standing back up to face her. 

“We’ll see,” she shrugged, giving him a brief kiss in thanks before shamelessly stripping off the rest of her clothes and heading to the shower. “Are you joining me?” she threw over her shoulder, smiling as he quickly followed her lead.

\-----

“Do you remember our first apartment?” he had been tracing his fingers over her bare back as she laid settled against his chest when he asked. It was their day off, having just come back from a mission. Phil had barely made his way into the living room, hoping to find Melinda finished with her tai chi, when she smiled at him and tugged him back to their bedroom.

“I remember wishing we picked a different one.” A bit of distaste punctuated her words as she turned her head to rest her cheek against the center of his chest. 

“Oh come on, it was very nice of our neighbor to offer us a discount on his pill collection.” he remarked, sarcastically, feeling her smile against him. 

“The air conditioning company didn’t do us any favors when our unit froze.” 

“Now that was a hot summer. We used to lay just like this and talk about running our own ops.”

“Well it was too hot for clothes. Besides we still do that.”

The both laughed, reminiscing on that time. It seemed like they were so much younger then and everything was still new for them. 

“Do you ever think about our future outside of work?”

“Meaning?” she asked, folding her arms across his chest and resting her chin atop them to get a better view of his face. He had become shy again, she could tell by the way he focused on tucking her hair behind her ear when he spoke. 

“Do you ever think about having kids?”

“With you?” she teased, smirking when he gave her a pointed look, “I do. All the time.” she finished, tucking her head back under his chin. She felt his hands pause at her back for a brief moment before they recovered.

“Really?”

“Yeah. You’re great with kids and I think we’ve reached the point where we can discuss it realistically.”

There were a few breaths between their conversation before he spoke again.

“I always picture us having a girl. She’d look like you, of course, and have your strength and sense of humor.”

“Yeah but she’d have you heart.” She let a silent moment pass before adding, “Maybe we should think about having more that just a conversation about it.”

“Yeah? I’d like that.” Phil kissed her head and wrapped his arm firmly around her shoulders, holding her to him, thinking about how great having a child together would be. And it would have been great. But then Bahrain happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! The next chapter focuses on Bahrain but it'll get lighter soon after that, I promise!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Melinda and Phil deal with the aftermath of Bahrain.

She pushed him away after Bahrain. She felt far too vulnerable, unable put on any real form of armor in his presence, he knew her too well for that. He didn’t take it personally. She pushed everyone away at that time in her life in an attempt to minimize the damage. That didn’t mean he didn’t miss his best friend, he was keenly aware of her absence, both physically and mentally. He could still remember in vivid detail the way it felt when he first saw her in the aftermath of it all. It was as if the air had been completely sucked from his lungs when he saw her clutching the girl’s body to her, surrounded by lifeless bodies on the ground. She had been heavily battered, bruises already forming, her face bloodied and her leg was even more so. But that wasn’t what caused such a visceral reaction, he had seen her come back from missions before, not bothering to hide her wounds from him. No, it was the hollowness in her eyes, the spark they always carried had been completely extinguished, as if someone had destroyed her from the inside. She said nothing as he helped her to the medical team, completely devoid of emotion as they questioned her about her injuries and patched her up. Once the team left and they were as alone as they could be, she broke. 

“I couldn’t save her,” she repeated over and over until sobs wracked her body and she could no longer speak.

He told her what he believed to be true, what he thought she needed to hear, as he pulled her to him, shielding her from the outside world while he could. Her inner demons were bad enough it seemed. 

“Let the girl go, Melinda.” He repeated, smoothing over her hair. 

When they made it to their temporary bunk she was relatively unresponsive. Knowing she couldn’t keep going covered in blood, it had dried to her face and seeped through her clothes, he gently guided her to the bathroom. 

“Can I take these off of you?” He asked, gesturing to her clothes and proceeded to do so anyway when she didn’t respond. She didn’t even flinch as her clothes stuck to her wounds which left him worried she was in shock. Having stripped them both of their clothes he led her to the shower which already had the hot water running. 

“Close your eyes,” he whispered softly, thankful when she did. He concentrated on washing the blood off her face, alternating between rubbing his thumb over the stains in a circular motion and caressing her cheek, brushing her hair out of the way as the water at her back pushed it forward. His other arm was firmly wrapped around her waist, grounding her to the moment, keeping her with him. When she shifted to rest her forehead to his chest, he wasn’t sure if it was an attempt to draw comfort or hide from him. Both thoughts left his mind as he realized her shoulders had begun to shake again and a soft sob left her lips. He held her to him for a moment before making quick work of cleaning the rest of the blood and grime off of her. He could tell the adrenaline was almost out of her system and she would crash soon. 

He had held her in silence that night as she trembled in his arms, having no more tears to spare. He knew better than to break the silence, she would never have appreciated nor believed any attempt to calm her then and he respected that. So instead he tucked her head under his chin and slowly trailed his fingers up and down her spine in the darkness of their temporary bunk, finally exhaling when he felt her breathing even out, exhaustion claiming her, but he was too worried to get any restful sleep that night. 

When he woke the next morning she was already out of bed, ready for their trip back to the base. He saw every muscle in her back tense at his touch when he found her and instantly dropped his hand, respecting her boundaries. He took it as a good sign when she still sat next to him on the flight, not in any shape to fly back herself, even if she said nothing the entire way back. She wasn’t cold towards him, she was just empty. That almost worried him more.

Melinda couldn’t seem to stop the flashbacks from assaulting her mind when they returned home. She had always felt so relieved when they finally entered their shared place after missions, but after Bahrain she found that feeling was replaced with a sense of dread. She couldn’t steer her thoughts to a different place and dreaded the feeling of bringing those thoughts into their home. 

She ran herself on autopilot for months but it had become too uncomfortable for her to bear. She was a ghost of the person she used to be. She had lost weight and she couldn’t handle the way Phil worriedly eyed her body when he thought she wasn’t paying attention and most of all she couldn’t stand the look of hurt in his eyes as she flinched away from his touch. She didn’t want to, his touch had always been a way to draw comfort, but now any contact from anyone sent her back to that room where she had become something she didn’t want to put a name to. She was hurting him, she hurt anyone she came into contact with, and it made her feel sick. 

One day, when she believed she had done enough damage and was strong enough to make the hard choice again, she informed him she was leaving. 

He didn’t say anything as he watched her carry her belongings to the car, one by one. When she had finally gotten down to the last item he stood in her path, causing her to stop in front of him. 

“Melinda…” he trailed off, her name barely audible as his hand rose to cup her cheek, thumb brushing over her cheekbone. She cursed herself for leaning into his touch and closing her eyes for a brief moment. She loved him, that was why she had to leave, she destroyed everything in her path. 

“I can’t keep hurting you,” she whispered, looking at the ground as she ducked out of his hold and threw her last bag into the car. She knew better than to look into his eyes at that point, to see the hurt there. She had already gave up as his partner in the job, locking herself away in administration, she would lose any resolve she had left if she saw what she had done to him by taking herself out of the role as his partner in life as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys liked it! Now that the heavy stuff happened, it'll start to get lighter as they work to repair their relationship. I won't drag it out, promise!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Melinda and Phil have very slowly come to terms with their separation when Phil, troubled by project T.A.H.I.T.I., calls Melinda to find she's still his support system.

Their separation had been a very challenging time for them both. 

Not only did Phil feel like he was missing his wife but also his partner, his right hand, the one person willing to call him out with no qualms. He missed the way she would roll her eyes at his ideas but then help him through anyway. Or how she would yell at him when she thought he was being reckless. But mostly he missed the way she would subtly brush her hand over his when she could tell he was stressed, reminding him of how well she could read him, without putting on a big display. 

Melinda missed his confidence that things would turn out okay, a confidence that irritated her to no end but she secretly loved. When she awoke from a nightmare, drenched in sweat, she remembered the way he would talk her down without even touching her. It was both one of the reasons she left and something she missed once it was gone. But she had become a different person in that building in Bahrain and those previously normal reassurances only reminded her how much had changed for her. She didn’t expect anyone to understand, even if Phil tried his hardest.

As time went on, they learned to live without the reassuring presence of their significant other at home and of their partner at work. Phil had began climbing the ladder in his career while Melinda tucked herself away into a place she was far too overqualified to be in. He still checked on her from time to time, never truly giving up on her, but only ever at work to bring her tea or to personally deliver his paperwork. Their conversations were usually hollow but it was worth it to occasionally see a ghost of a smile upon her face, to know she was there somewhere. 

They never went through with a divorce. Melinda, losing her nerve every time he strolled onto her floor and settled near her desk, couldn’t bring herself to ever broach the subject. She felt like a coward for forgoing it to avoid seeing the look she knew his eyes would have if she ever brought it up. She wished he would just give up on her, be angry with her for leaving him and do the same. She believed he was better off without her, away from her constant storm, but she couldn’t bear to dash the hopeful look he carried with him on every visit. For Phil, the subject never even crossed his mind, he loved Melinda and would wait patiently for her to recover, giving her the time she needed, even as a potential recovery date drew further into oblivion as time went on. His unyielding faith in her was one of the few things keeping her from completely closing herself off for good. She wasn’t who she used to be but he accepted that. Still, they made a very ill accepted peace with being separated. 

They had lost their composure the night Phil had called her.

He hadn’t meant to intentionally do it. He meant to give her the space she felt she needed, but he had done it as an automated response and he was too worked up to realize his actions until it was too late. The current case he was running was really starting to get to him. The results were distressing at a minimum. He should have known bringing those people back from the dead would have major negative consequences. He could still see the marks they carved into their skin, desperate to find something but not knowing what that something was. He had helped create this and he couldn’t help but feel negativity run through him. He needed to talk to her. To just hear her voice. He knew that would help him calm down. Guilt instantly bubbled in his chest the moment she answered. He wasn’t supposed to call her on a whim like that, just to make himself feel better. It was late and he shouldn’t have bothered her. 

“Phil? Is everything okay?” she sounded surprised, worried even, but not upset.

“Oh Melinda, I-I’m sorry I didn’t realize what I was doing until you answered. I didn’t mean to bother you, I’ll go.”

“No, it’s okay. You want to talk about what’s got you so worked up?” She always had been able to pinpoint his emotions and cut directly to the point. He felt bittersweet at the familiarity of it all even though it had been well over a year since they had spoken more than a few sentences to each other at a time, over a year since she left. 

“No I’m fine, it’s not really a big deal, I’m just tired I think.” Any issue he had over his current case had flown from his mind at the sound of her voice, all he could focus on now was prolonging their conversation for as long as he could. “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” which they both knew was code for not fine. “Just another day of putting together welcome packets.”

“Sounds like a great time.”

“Well someone has to do it.”

He resisted the urge to tell her how much better she could do than sitting at a desk all day putting together paperwork. He knew why she was down there. It was the same reason he was calling her on the phone and not whispering his worries to her in the darkness of their bed. He hated how much trauma had been taken on by the woman he loved and he had no desire to add to that by putting his opinion where it was unwanted. So instead, unable to come up with any conversation points in that moment, he opted to say what he was always thinking, what he felt to his core.

“I miss you.”

There was a pause before he heard her response and let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Me too.” A comfortable silence passed between them before she spoke again. “Phil?”

“Yeah?”

“Why did you call me?” He knew that question was coming but it still made him cringe when it did. 

“I guess I called you out of habit. You were always the person I wanted to talk to, still are actually. I can’t even talk about the case, it’s level ten, but I guess I was so upset that I didn’t think about what I was doing.”

He was worried he had scared her off with that admission but when he looked at his phone, it was still connected, she was still there. He relaxed again when he heard her sigh. 

“Do you want me to come over?”

Her offer surprised him, leaving him unsure if she truly meant it. It was something they had always done in their early years, before they lived together. They would return from missions they couldn’t discuss with each other but still sought comfort from one another, often calling late at night, letting themselves in to the other’s apartment. They would lay together in silence, using reassuring touches to ground their significant other to the present moment rather than their worries. He wanted that more than anything but he was terrified it would send all of the progress they had made hurdling back. It was just becoming okay for him to linger at her desk a bit longer when he came down to visit, to very rarely share a quick lunch. “You don’t have to do that. I’ll be fine.”

“Phil.” Her tone was tired but he knew its meaning, _I know you’re lying to me, tell the truth_.

“Yeah, I do.”

It was nearing midnight when she finally got to their previously shared home and let herself in with the key she had never given back. He had stood at the sound of the door and met her face to face in the living room, looking over her body for changes, noting how she did the same. She hadn’t lost anymore weight, that was good, but her body seemed slightly less toned, her peak physique no longer put into practice at her desk job. May didn’t need to see him to know his shoulders were tense, but she could see she was right nonetheless. His distress had physically manifested itself, creeping into his eyes as well. Once they assured themselves the other was okay physically, she allowed herself to be pulled into his chest, whispering their quiet hellos, letting his comforting scent envelope her. Silently, she took his hand and led him to the bedroom, tucking him under the covers before joining him. They spent a moment searching each other’s eyes, feeling safer about it in the dark. She sighed before kissing his head and tucking it under her chin, a move she had often used to soothe his worry on bad days. 

“I’ve missed you,” he mumbled sleepily as he wrapped his arms around her, fists balling into her shirt like he was afraid she was going to disappear.

“Just go to sleep, I’m here,” she whispered into the darkness, rubbing soothing circles over his back, shivering involuntarily as she felt his lips press to her neck. After a brief moment, she felt him relax and settle into her as his arms pulled her closer, smiling when she sensed his breathing evening out. Shortly after, she drifted off as well, feeling safe enough to do so. 

When he woke the next morning she was already gone but her lingering scent reminded him that it was real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phil and Melinda definitely still have a few trial to go through before they're completely reunited but they're almost there! I'll probably post the next update Wednesday.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil learns the truth about Bahrain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: mentions of death (from Bahrain)

Their reconciliation had been rocky but undeniably steady in its progress. It was never going to be a big admission and sudden change for them. That wasn’t who they were. Their relationship, even at its best, had been quiet and relatively understated. They had slowly drifted into it rather than tumbling head first. Their reconnection had been much the same. He really thought things were returning to some semblance of normal. She was coming over more frequently, staying the night more often than not. She even began slowly moving back in again. He would find things in the drawers and closets that had previously been removed, now back in place. But there was a time when he was afraid, truly afraid, that all their hard work had come crashing around them. One tiny event had triggered something he was not expecting and for a moment he was worried he had lost her again. 

They had been on a walk near their house one evening and she froze when their neighbor’s child approached her.

“Mrs. May!” The girl happily shouted throwing herself at May, reaching her hands up to be held.   
There had been a time when Melinda would have flashed a bright smile and scooped the child into her arms to have a nice chat which would have sent a warm feeling through Phil. He always thought she would make a great mother, strict yet attentive. They were even discussing starting their own family, whispering their dreams to each other at night, imagining what their child would look like. Every single one of those dreams shattered after Bahrain, she couldn’t even stand to be near children let alone have one of her own. It brought back too many traumatic memories. She gave the girl a very tight lipped smile, staring helplessly at her tiny hands as Coulson distracted her, suggesting she go find her parents, claiming May wasn’t feeling well. He took in the way May had stiffened, it was as if every single muscle in her body had tensed and she remained in that place even after the child had reunited with her parents and they traveled out of view, giving them a sympathetic look. 

“May?” He attempted to get her attention, noting the way her jaw clenched almost painfully. When she didn’t respond he stepped into her line of view, being careful not to touch her, he still remembered her worrying aversion to it when they returned home from Bahrain. It had lessened significantly since then but it seemed she was having an episode and the last thing he wanted was to make it worse. 

“Come on Melinda, come back to me.” He pleaded a little desperately, pained at seeing his wife in such a state. She blinked a few times before returning back to the present and for a split second he saw a look of pure horror in her eyes before they hardened and she turned on her heel, heading briskly back to their home. 

She didn’t say anything the entire way back, never once glancing at Phil to check if he was following. He could barely keep up with her pace until they were back in their home. 

“May,” he tried but she was still making her way through the house. “May,” he tried again but it was as if she hadn’t even heard him. “Melinda!” He raised his voice a bit more, hoping for some reaction. She had stopped in place at her name and turned to face him, a fire burning in her eyes. 

“Please talk to me.” His voice had gone soft again. He really didn’t want to provoke her anymore than he already was. 

“What do you want me to say Phil? That I can’t stand to be around children anymore? That there’s something wrong with me? That I’ve become cold?” She wasn’t truly raising her voice to a shout but her tone was harsh. He knew she was hurting, she always filtered her pain into anger. 

“Come on May, you know that’s not-” he started, taking a step forwards, stopping dead in his tracks as she took a step back from him. The look in her eyes made it clear that she believed every word she said. Her fists were balled so tight her knuckles were paling. He tried again, this time staying in place so he wouldn’t spook her. 

“What happened was not your fault. You did what you had to.” 

“Don’t!” She shouted. “It was my fault. That girl didn’t get caught in the crossfire, I shot her. I did what needed to be done and now I have to live with that.” 

He stood in shock as he watched her storm off to their room. He wasn’t sure if it was at her outburst or her admission. It didn’t matter really. He waited a few minutes, thankful she didn’t leave the house altogether, before entering their room. She was still standing, looking out the window but not truly seeing anything. Even though she was facing away from him, he knew she sensed his presence at the way her shoulders tensed. 

“Melinda, please, don’t shut me out again. I want to understand,” he pleaded keeping a safe distance from her so she didn’t feel crowded. Her face was blank when she began recounting the events that took place that day, no doubt attempting to detach herself from painful memories. She explained how it was the girl controlling everyone, how she held out her hand, threatening to kill the whole team. Her eyes had gone darker once she reached that point, recounting her final act before he had finally entered the cleared building. He felt for her in every way, now understanding why it had been almost two years since she really allowed him to touch her without shying away. Why she left their home, left him, before returning once again. She blamed herself. For everything. And it hurt. 

He was almost in tears at her admission. At being shown all the pain she took onto herself. 

“Is it okay for me to touch you?” was all he asked, keeping his hands at his sides, trying not to recreate the image she had just described to him. He could see her hands were still clenched into fists, fingers still digging firmly into her palms and he wasn’t sure he could get the right words out at that moment. 

She inhaled deeply, eyes up to the ceiling, most likely holding tears at bay before closing them and nodding. He was very cautious to put his hands on her, now truly aware of why she had such an aversion. He placed his hands over her shoulders, thankful when she didn’t flinch, and slowly ran them down her arms, pausing at her wrists. 

“It’s okay. It’s just me,” he added softly when she began to tense as his path neared her hands, only continuing on after she nodded, trusting him. He picked up one of her balled fists and loosened her fingers, using his thumbs to rub soothingly over the deep grooves left from her nails, before he lifted her hand to his face and placed a kiss to her palm. 

When he looked up, she was looking away from him as a single tear slipped down her cheek. He knew she hated to feel vulnerable but right now he needed her to feel loved and understood. He used the back of his fingers to brush the tear away before caressing her cheek, settling his hand there, feeling his heart squeeze when she leaned into him. She was letting him in. 

Pressing a small kiss to her temple, he softly guided her into his chest, making it a point to keep his hand light, allowing it to be her decision. He let out a calming breath when he felt her settle against him, wrapping his arms around her. 

“It’s just you and me,” he whispered into her hair, “no one else needs to know or understand. I do. You don’t have to carry it all on your own.” 

The constriction within his chest loosened just a fraction when he felt her nod. He knew she would never forgive herself, never stop playing it over and over in her head, looking for something that could have been done differently, angry at the situation and angry at herself. But for now that nod of acceptance would be enough. 

When he awoke early the next morning he was relieved to find she was still in bed next to him, her hand resting over his. He twined their fingers together and brought her hand to his lips, knowing she was already awake. 

“Hey,” he whispered when she gave his hand a brief squeeze in response, turning her head to meet his eyes, “how are you feeling?” 

She shrugged, moving to press her face into his chest as she cradled his hand, still joined with hers, against her, warming his cold fingers with the heat her chest was giving off. He took it as progress, the close contact she initiated. She was finally allowing him to provide comfort rather than pushing him away or keeping to herself. 

A few nights later, he found that all her remaining possessions were moved back into their house. She was finally back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all liked it! I spent a lot of time trying to get this chapter right. I have a few more chapters to go with the pre-series stuff but I was debating on whether I should get into the series stuff with this universe or not. Any opinions?


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil returns home after weeks out on various missions, which included babysitting Stark, studying an 0-8-4, and meeting Thor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I wanted to thank you for all your lovely comments. I really appreciate and enjoy reading them. This chapter is just fluff. I thought I would give you all a break from the angst and hurt/comfort before I dive back into it.

It was nearing two in the morning when Phil finally stepped foot in his own home. He was exhausted. He hadn’t been home for weeks. Lately, it had seemed as though things were just happening in a chain reaction, Stark, the anomaly in the sky, the 0-8-4, Thor. At this point he was just glad to step foot in a familiar setting, to smell the familiar scent of home. He tried his best to not break the silence that had fallen over the house, to not disturb the serenity flowing through it. He sat his stuff down, stopping briefly in the bathroom to change his clothes and get ready for bed before heading to their bedroom. He slid into bed as smoothly as he could and remained on his side facing the wall, trying his best not to disturb Melinda, who had not stirred at his entrance to their room. He was grateful any time she was sleeping peacefully and this was one of those times, or so he thought. 

He jumped when he felt a hand brush his arm, settling there with a squeeze, only to turn to see Melinda’s bright, amused smile glowing in the darkness. He should have known she would sense his presence, she always did. Her uncanny ability would have been scary if he didn’t find it so comforting. 

“Hey,” he whispered, moving to caress her cheek.

“Hey,” she returned in a much sleepier tone, grabbing his hand to tuck it under her chin, holding it against her chest. “How did it go?” she asked, once again closing her eyes. 

It was times like this that he was glad she kept her level seven clearance after she switched to administration. They had a “trust the system rule” and generally avoided talking about things beyond their level and he wasn’t sure if he could keep it all in otherwise. He liked telling her about his day and everything that had gone on just as much as she liked to hear it. It was comforting to be able to put everything out in the open and discuss it with someone who would understand without judgement or ulterior motives. Not to mention, it was a big part of his life he would have to skip over otherwise. 

“Depends on what part you’re referring to, it all was pretty interesting at least. Stark was a handful as always. Oh, and he did a thorough background check on me this time, for fun. He wanted me to tell you he thinks you’re light years out of my league.” 

That elicited a quiet chuckle out of her as she settled further into the bed, not bothering to open her eyes again. “And what about the other thing? The ‘anomaly in the sky’?”

“How well do you know you’re Norse mythology?” He asked, not waiting for a response, “Thor, the god of thunder? Turns out he’s not a god, just an interdimensional alien, so that was cool. The anomaly was actually a portal to their dimension, where his hammer had landed. Then of course his being here led to the destroyer being here and the battle you saw on the news.” 

“Well, you’ve been busy,” she quipped and he hummed in agreement. Her fingers traced up and down the inside of his forearm at a lulling pace, making his eyelids feel heavier as she continued, “Anything else?”

“Yeah, Nat and Clint say hi.”

“I know, she called me.”

“Of course she did.” he sighed matter-of-factly. It wouldn’t have been the first time she’d called Melinda to keep her up to date on his missions. Those women could rival the best of the small-town, old biddies who thrived on gossip, assuming the gossip was about Phil, much to his expense. They had even done it back when she was still in the field, finding it amusing to watch him splutter at the the knowledge his wife had on him without him telling her or her being there when it happened. It was just something that lingered on after she left the field, now used more so to keep her up to date than to use as a tool for their amusement. 

“Well, she knows I like keeping tabs on you.” she teased, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. 

“You should go back to sleep,” he whispered after a moment.

“So should you, besides, tomorrow’s Saturday, I don’t have any plans.” She countered, although, she made no move to show that she planned on staying awake much longer, her breathing still slow and even. That was a quirk of hers, always remaining seemingly subdued, being able to carry on a conversation for hours even if she seemed like she was about to drop at any second. He had known her for years before he was able to read her subtle changes, to learn the differences in her quiet moments and what each meant. 

“Good, me neither. Well besides laying here with you.” His tone was joking but he was being honest as he snaked his free arm under her, curling it around her back to draw her closer. “I missed you.” 

“Me too.” She replied, smiling at the way his fingers ran through her hair and skimmed over her back, matching the pace her fingers were trailing over his arm. 

Neither felt a need to keep the conversation going, instead, they enjoyed the feeling of having the other close. There was a calmness that passed between them, a sense of comfort neither could explain but felt equally. Phil was the first to fall asleep. Sure he was out for the night, Melinda moved the arm that was under her, not wanting him to wake up with it asleep later, still keeping the other she had a hold of against her. She laid there a few minutes longer before letting his calm breathing lull her back to sleep, content now that he was home.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the Tesseract was stolen and the building it containing it was leveled, Phil find's himself dealing with the aftermath which happens to involve the Avengers Initiative.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Temporary Major Character Death (you know the one)

Phil had a lot on his mind as he made his was back to base. The tesseract stolen, the entire project pegasus building leveled, so many agents down and a few taken over completely. He was so carried away in his thoughts that he hadn’t noticed anyone lurking in the dark corners. Just as he turned down the hall, by himself, a hand reached and grabbed him, pulling him into a dark corner, hidden from view. He tensed, already on edge and ready to defend himself until he felt arms pull him closer, encircling him in an embrace. 

“It’s me.” It was Melinda’s voice. “I heard the alert, that the building was completely leveled. I needed to know you were okay.” 

He relaxed in her arms then, pulling her closer before he pulled back to look at her. “I’m fine, May. But it’s not good. I have meeting I need to go to and then I’ll probably be sent back out.” 

“Okay. Let me know what you can, when you can. I’ll see you at home” She whispered, fixing his tie before sending him back out into the hallway.

\-----

The first thing Phil did when he got home was find Melinda, kissing her and resting his forehead against hers.

“So is there a plan?” she asked.

“We’re working on it.”

“Good.”

She could tell he had a hint of excitement about whatever he had discussed at his meeting. He had the “I need to tell you something” face on as she handed him the takeout box. She decided to let him tell her on his own as they sat down to eat. A few bites in, he caved, like she knew he would, and finally brought it up. 

“You know about the level seven right?” he asked and continued when she nodded. “What do you know about the Avengers Initiative?”

“They’ve been working on it for a while now, I did some of the paperwork for it.” 

“They’re finally bringing them all together, May. Given the circumstances, it’s still pretty exciting.” 

“Are you sure you’re not just excited because you get to escort Captain America to the helicarrier when they all come together?”

He paused for a moment, not prepared for her question. “Wait, you knew?”

“I told you I did some of the paperwork.” She smirked at him, taking a sip of her beer. 

“Did you - actually nevermind. I don’t want to know. Yes, that part’s definitely a big plus. But isn’t it exciting? They actually have the ability to make a big difference if this works. Imagine how many people they can protect.” There was a childlike gleam in his eye at the hope he had for the new team. That warmed Melinda’s heart. He was always so idealistic, doing anything he could in the name of protecting others. 

“I just wish it was under better circumstances.” He added soberly, referring to the events that brought this on. In response, she reached under the table and gave his knee an affectionate squeeze.

“It’s great, Phil. I’m really excited for you. When do you leave?”

“Tonight, I have to leave in a few hours. Fury seems to enjoy making me deal with Stark.”

\-----

“So the Avengers Initiative. That’s big.” she thought aloud as they sat on the couch, taking his hand in her own.

“Yeah, I wish you could come with me,” He said, rubbing over her knuckles with his thumb. “But I’ll settle for calling you instead.” He quickly added before she had a chance to look upset or tiredly tell him that he knew why she wasn’t going. That’s not why he said it. He said it because he always missed her when he was away. He was glad he thought to add that last comment when she looked relieved instead, taking his beer and setting it on the coffee table in front of them before throwing her leg over his hips to straddle him. She pressed her body against his, leaning forward to whisper in his ear as she ran her fingers through his hair. 

“I guess we’ll just have to make up for lost time then.” She teased, smiling proudly when she heard a low groan pass through his lips. She enjoyed the feeling of his arms drawing her impossibly closer when she began trailing kisses down his neck. “We have some time before you have to go, let’s use it wisely.”

“You’re purposely trying to make me not want to leave.” He stated matter-of-factly. 

She shrugged, not relenting on the path her lips were trailing, kissing languidly back up to his mouth. “I don’t see you complaining.” She commented nonchalantly before finally bringing her lips to his.

“Never.” He mumbled against her lips, warming at the feeling of her smiling into their kiss.

\-----

It was late and she had just laid down to get some sleep when her phone rang.

“I can’t believe I just met Captain America. I met him in person, May. He’s much more impressive in person.”

“And are you allowed to be telling me this information?” she questioned, smiling fondly at his excitement as she settled further into their bed, pressing her phone to her free ear.

“I believe Fury’s exact words were, ‘There’s no point in making your meeting classified, I know you’re just going to tell Agent May anyway.’” He recounted, drawing a quiet laugh from Melinda.

“So how was it?”

“To be honest, he was nice but he seemed a pretty reserved. But he was inside a quinjet, dealing with changes and technology he would never have even dreamed of, so it was understandable.”

Melinda chuckled at his attempt to defend his childhood hero. “Did you tell him about your card collection?” She knew he couldn’t resist an opportunity like that. 

“That may have happened, yes. He told me he would sign them too!” 

He had gone through quite a bit of trouble to get that whole collection. Many he had from childhood but the ones he didn’t he had spent many nights battling it out online to be the highest bid. Melinda couldn’t help but share in his infectious glee any time one had arrived in the mail for him. Nor did she mind the celebratory smooch he would plant on her lips as she laughed at his excitement. 

“How’s everything going?”

“Well, it’s interesting to say the least.” 

They talked for a while longer before hanging up with the promise of calling again when he could.

\-----

She knew something was wrong the instant she answered his call. Even years after it occured, that conversation remained burned into her mind.

“I just wanted you to know. I’m really glad things didn’t work out with that shrink, that we decided to get that drink all those years ago. 

“Phil, what’s wrong? Why does it sound like you’re saying goodbye? What’s going on up there?” 

“It’s classified, I can’t tell you but it’s getting pretty sticky over here, I just needed to hear your voice, it always helps me stay calm, ya know, when it’s not your ‘angry at me voice’.”

She completely ignored his joke, “Phil, please, don’t do anything stupid.” she couldn’t keep the edge out of her voice. The way he was talking made her feel like something was deeply wrong, and she knew Phil enough to know he would be in the thick of it. He took his duty to protect more seriously than anyone she knew. It was one of the reasons she loved him. But he could be reckless with his own life in his devotion to the cause, and she was no longer there to protect him in the field, to keep him safe. 

“I’m only going to do what I have to.”

“Yeah, that’s what worries me.” 

“Do you remember our wedding?” He changed the subject entirely. She could tell he was asking her to calm him down, to distract him with their conversation. Every red flag was waving for her to do something but she was in no position to do so. In that moment, all she could do was force herself to speak calmly, to keep his anxiety at bay.

“Of course I do, I was there,” she teased in an attempt to calm him and by the sound of his breathless chuckle, it seemed to be working. “We thought we were being clever, eloping without telling anyone, until my mom showed up two days later to yell at us for not inviting her.”

“Yeah, your angry mother was not the honeymoon surprise I was hoping for.”

“I should have known she was keeping tabs on us.”

“I saw where your terrifyingly quiet disapproval came from when she found us. I couldn’t tell if she was going to lecture me or hurt me. But, either way, I knew you would protect me from getting my ass kicked.” 

She laughed at that, a stray tear making its way down her cheek. She could hear the threat of tears in his voice as well. Their conversation was light but the moment felt so heavy. Both were on the verge of breaking down, Melinda from fear of losing Phil and Phil from worrying about how Melinda would handle his death. She had already shut so many people out after Bahrain, he couldn’t stand to think about how much more she would close herself off if she lost one of the few she choose to let in. 

“Always,” she promised, trying put all her sincerity in one word, “of course, provided I’m not the one doing it.” She added feeling her heart squeeze when she was rewarded with his laugh once again, even if it sounded strangled.

“I think it turned out okay though. Marrying you was the best decision I’ve ever made.”

There was a pause as his voice moved away from the phone, talking to someone else, before he returned to their conversation.

“I have to go now.” There was a silent beat before he went on. “I love you, Melinda.” His voice contained a seriousness that left her with a nervous feeling. He didn’t even pretend to think things would turn out alright.

“I love you too,” she replied, trying to keep her voice even but not completely succeeding, before they ended the call. She tried to calm herself, to even out her breathing, but it was proving to be a challenge. She had absolutely no control over the situation and all she could do was sit, wait, and hope she was wrong about its outcome. 

Not long after the event, word had gotten to her and she felt her heart drop. She wasn’t wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had originally written this a little different until I rewatched the avengers and realized it didn't fit as well and changed it. I hope you all liked it!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Melinda deals with Phil's loss and his funeral before Fury informs her that he ordered her husband to be brought back to life. When Phil finally comes back to her, she has a few things she needs to say to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know none of you want to see Melinda deal with Phil's death so I tried to make the sad part as brief as possible without excluding its importance or Melinda's feelings, so I hope you all like it!

She knew his official funeral was going to be filled with people. He always had such a positive effect on everyone he helped or worked with. She really didn’t want to go, didn’t want to leave the house, didn’t want to be near people. But she knew he would have wanted her to go. He wouldn’t have wanted her to shut herself out from the world so for one day, to honor him, she would go, even if she planned on closing herself off the second it was over. 

His funeral had opened up a whole other can of worms that she desperately wished they could have dealt with together. They had always kept quiet about their marriage, it was easier to be in the roles they were in without getting small minded questions about their relationship affecting their work. Fury even kept it out of the report, knowing she definitely wouldn’t want to be the center of attention about her husband, especially now that she had to deal with his loss. But she couldn’t very well play it off at his own funeral. She didn’t want to, she loved him with everything she had, with what little of herself was left after everything that had happened. There was no need to hide it anymore, it could no longer be used against them at work, he was gone. So she proudly stood as his wife, as eulogies were spoken about him, choosing to forgo her own, he knew what she would have said. She was too busy focusing on keeping her breathing even, instead. Still, she couldn’t ignore the way various agents’ eyes widened when she was referred to as his wife. But she appreciated the way Natasha, Clint, and Maria stepped closer to her in that moment, glaring at those who had forgotten themselves at that revelation, offering her silent comfort. 

She really didn’t want to talk to anyone, she hadn’t wanted to even before she lost him, it just intensified since then. He was always the one to do the talking, not her. But still, she was loaded with stories from everyone paying their respects. The agent’s they had kept their marriage a secret from told her about how he would always tell stories of his wife, making it clear how much he loved her. She could tell they were surprised to find out it was her he had been talking about the whole time, clearly impressed with their discretion and more so confused about how Phil could have ever spoken so warmly about “The Cavalry.” Agents, family, friends, various civilians, even members of the Avengers came to pay their respects. Even if she had never met them, they knew who she was, saying how fondly he spoke of her when she wasn’t around, telling her stories of his heroics and bravery, but more importantly, of his kindness. 

She didn’t really respond to them. She didn’t have it in her to include herself in their conversations. She just felt empty, painful, a sharp ache that wouldn’t go away. She didn’t cry in front of them, she had done enough of that the first night she returned home after being informed of his death, being shown his body, and cried more than enough in the days following. The day of his funeral, her face remained blank. She felt like she didn’t have anything left to give. Her best friend was gone. The one person who knew exactly who she was and still chose to love her, to make her feel loved, was gone. When it was finally over, she went home, crawled into bed, and stared at the ceiling, allowing the darkness to fall around her. 

Her mother visited for a week and fussed at her for laying around and doing nothing. In this time, she was forced to shower and to eat, which was seen as progress, even if her mother couldn’t force her to talk. When her missing presence began to draw too much unwanted concern she went back to work, running on autopilot. No one said anything to her, she had practically blocked her desk off from anyone to begin with, but she didn’t miss the looks of pity she got from the people who found out about their marriage from the funeral. The ones who had prior knowledge knew better than to look at her like that. She was nothing but a mix of pain and anger, letting it haphazardly twist through her under her emotionless facade. There was no point in letting anyone see her storm, the only person she could talk about it with was the reason it was happening. The only person she could talk about it with was gone. She was acutely aware of how deeply his loss had affected her.

\-----

It had been nine weeks since May had buried her husband and three days since Fury had briefed her. They had brought him back to life days after his death, she wondered briefly if they had dug him up the same day as his funeral or if he was even in the coffin they had buried at all, she guessed it was the latter. After bringing him back, they erased his memory of it and they had done it all without telling her. She gritted her teeth at hearing the more gruesome details of bringing him back to life, at learning she would be responsible for monitoring him without his knowledge, at Fury exploiting her unceasing loyalty to the man she loved.

Within this time period she often dreamed of him. Her darker dreams included dreams of him lying cold on a table with a split chest, which sent her shooting straight out of bed, a cold sweat running down her spine. Those were horrible, she had lived through them, forced to experience them again, but it was the softer dreams that really sent her realing. In these dreams he was whole, no wound upon his chest. She could hear him whisper her name with such affection, wearing a smile to match, as he caressed her cheek like he always did when they returned home from a mission, spending their time on leave hiding under the covers of their bed. When she woke she would reach for him, only to find his side of the bed cold and empty, and silently berate herself for being so naive. 

So, even after the briefing and having full knowledge that he would return thinking he had been forced on mandatory leave without seeing her first, after knowing he spent seven more days away from her, being tested in relative isolation once he was back in his right and conscious mind, she was having a hard time trusting her grasp on reality. But when she heard the door open and saw him enter their home late that night she felt a wave of relief wash over her, this was different than her dreams, he was real.

“Phil.” was the only word she could get out as she felt the air leave her lungs and a stinging sensation form behind her eyes. She was still weary that her brain was playing tricks on her so she chose to lay a hand tentatively to his chest, closing her eyes and smiling as she felt the steady beat there. 

“It’s me May,” he responded to her apprehension, placing his hand over hers, toying with her fingers as he continued, “I’m sorry I didn’t get to tell you earlier, I can’t even imagine. I couldn’t contact you on leave, Fury’s orders. You must be upset, I died, only eight seconds but still, you thought I was gone for good, and then I just left without seeing you, without telling you I made it, if that had been you I-’” his nervous ramblings were interrupted as she pressed her lips to his, effectively silencing him. The kiss was a bit rougher than normal, a bit more desperate, but he understood, he would have done the same thing. Eventually, she relaxed in his arms, easing her lips from his while pulling his body closer for a brief moment until she shoved him away.

“That was so stupid! And reckless! And irresponsible! Going in to fight an Asgardian alone. How could you be so careless with your life?” 

“May, I-”

“No,” she interrupted his attempt to explain. He could see her temper rise as she worked herself up further. There were very few times he’s seen her like this, words spitting out like fire. She was only like this about things she cared most about, choosing to morph her hurt and anguish into anger, it was safer to feel anger, and she wasn’t done yet. “Did you even think about what your loss would do to the people who love you? What it would do to me?” 

He saw fire in her eyes and her jaw clenched as she turned to leave, not wanting to lose control in front of him, worried she would say something she shouldn’t. He couldn’t know her true pain; the pain of feeling his cold, lifeless body beneath her hands as agents tried to offer her comfort they couldn’t provide, of having to bury the love of her life, of thinking she lost him forever, of having to keep all this from him to keep him safe. Before she could walk away she felt him catch her wrist and gently turn her. She kept her head down, once again feeling vulnerable. She was too tired to hold everything in, the past few months had left her feeling emotionally exhausted and raw. 

“Melinda,” her name nearly inaudible as he whispered it, tilting her chin up so he could search her eyes, brushing at the tears that had escaped with the pads of his thumbs while cradling her face between his hands. “I’m sorry I left you, that I made you feel like you were alone, that’s not what I wanted but I’m not sorry for what I did. I needed to do it to help everyone, otherwise I wouldn’t be able to look at myself, knowing I could have done something and chose not to.”

She nodded, she understood. “It was still a stupid thing to do.”

“Hey,” he whispered, brushing her hair away from her face, “I’m still here. You didn’t lose me. What’s eight seconds really?”

“Enough,” she answered before slipping her arms around his neck, pulling him to her once again, wrapping her legs around him to support her weight when he lifted her. She pressed her face into his neck, taking comfort in the familiar scent, as he carried her to their bedroom. He was right, he was still there. 

He quickly lifted her shirt over her head once he put her back on her feet, caressing the newly exposed skin, but hesitated when she reached for the buttons of his shirt, placing his hands over hers to halt their movements. He was worried about his scar, it was far too large to be overlooked.

“Please, let me see it.” she pleaded softly and finished unbuttoning his shirt, sliding it off his shoulders after he nodded in compliance. He saw her eyes instantly go glassy at seeing the scar, making eye contact with him before laying her hand gently over it and resting her head against his chest. His hands instinctively went to her lower back, tracing soothing patterns over her skin. 

“I guess I won’t make the swimsuit edition anytime soon, not exactly what they’re looking for these days.” He quipped, revelling in the sound of her quiet chuckle.

“You never know, there might be a special undead edition,” she shot back before sobering, lifting her head off his chest to meet his eyes. “It’s part of you now, it means you survived.” She placed a kiss to his collarbone, just above the scar, before laying him down and relaxing into his kiss.

Melinda held Phil more tightly to her than she normally would have that night, not that he minded. Neither said much once they had settled down for the night, content to share reassuring touches and gentle kisses until Phil fell asleep, leaving Melinda alone with her thoughts. 

Fury put her in a less than ideal situation but at that moment it didn't matter. Phil was safe in her arms and he was alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That wasn't too bad right? Now I'll be getting into the series stuff but updates will definitely be further apart because I'm taking classes and prepping for grad school, so bear with me please! Also! I'm planning on doing a little single-chapter prequel of little glimpses into their early years soonish so look out for that too! Once again, thanks to everyone who has been reading, liking, and commenting on this. I really appreciate it.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil's getting restless playing dead and Melinda deals with the aftermath of his "death".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I can't believe how much support I've gotten for this fic, thank you all so much for reading, commenting, and liking it!! I've decided to close this one out with a final chapter and turn it into a series! So look out for part two which will be a prequel soon! And don't worry I plan on continuing this fic! It'll be in part three when I get there!

When Melinda returned home from work, she found Phil sunken defeatedly into the couch, his head tilted back and his arms hanging limply at his sides. His stack of read books had grown a book taller but it wasn’t the first time she had found him like that since he returned. 

“Indefinite leave is so boring May, I need to go back to work.”

“Well, the dead don’t go to work,” she commented, sitting down next to him, “Fury said to be patient.” 

He sighed, most impatiently, and turned to curl himself around her, arms wrapping securely around her waist, leg landing in her lap as he rested his head against her chest. “He said that a month ago.”

“Well I’m sure creating a member of the undead takes time,” she teased, combing her fingers through his hair, “besides, I thought you wanted to take time off.”

“Yeah, well, that was when I thought time off meant travelling through Ireland with you, sitting in pubs and reading classics. Not being on house arrest, avoiding all of humanity.” 

“You’re trapped here with me instead.”

He softened at that and lifted his head to press a kiss just below her jaw. “I wouldn’t want to be stuck in isolation with anyone but you. They’d probably talk too much.” 

“I’m just glad you’re here, whatever the conditions may be.” A touch of emotion broke through her voice as she placed a kiss to his head. 

He gave her hip a squeeze at that comment. He could only begin to guess how she had felt after he died, he knew he would have been devastated if the tables were turned. 

She didn’t often show how she felt but he would wake up in the middle of the night to find she had wrapped herself around him, her chest pressed tightly to his back with her arm wrapped around his torso, holding him against her. He knew she was awake when she did this from the way her thumb would stroke restlessly over the scar above his heart. Sometimes he would leave her alone to her thoughts, not wanting her to know he knew she was constantly worrying. But more often he would twine their fingers together, lifting her hand to press a kiss to her palm, to let her know he was there if she needed him, receiving a kiss to his back in return. 

The only time they had done anything different was the first night he returned home: 

_He woke in the same position but that time he felt her shaky breathing against him, one of the few signs that she was crying. He didn’t waste any time, turning in her hold to wrap both arms around her and pulled her into his chest. Her silent sobs had become slightly audible at being acknowledged but she quickly calmed again as he whispered quiet reassurances to her and ran his fingers through her hair. Noticing her breathing hadn’t completely evened out, he tucked her head under his chin and breathed deeply, knowing she would try to match her breathing to his, smiling when she did._

_He shifted back down to face her once she calmed and brushed away the tears that clung to her cheeks._

_“I thought I had lost you,” she whispered, barely audible._

_“I know, I’m sorry. I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere.”_

_“I know.”_

_He tried to ignore the shattering feeling in his chest when he heard her breath catch on the last word. He pressed kisses to her forehead, her eyelids, her cheeks, trying to somehow show her that he was still there and had no intention of leaving her any time soon, before he finally brought his lips to hers, kissing her slow and sweet, no urgency, no heat, just a reassurance that he was there and he loved her. He rested his forehead against hers, just breathing with her as he felt her fingers brush over and link behind his neck, holding him in place. He knew he had done this to her, made her feel unsteady, and he vowed that he would sit like that with her every night if it helped put her back on solid footing._

He wasn’t sure if she ever really slept because she would always be awake and out of bed the next morning at the same time as usual, earlier than he would wake up. 

He never brought it up in the morning. Instead he would stand behind her at the kitchen counter and wrap his arm around her waist, placing a kiss to her neck before resting his chin on her shoulder. They never said anything about it when she leaned into him and breathed deeply, caressing the arm that held her while she finished her task with her free hand. 

So as they sat on the couch, their silent comfort was enough, it was normal. 

She knew why he was still on leave. She was still evaluating potential members of the team they were putting together for him. Still creating the criteria for him to think he was choosing them himself. FitzSimmons, as they were referred to, were fresh out of the academy, still so young, but brighter than most scientists that had come through the doors of SHIELD. If anyone could do anything to help Phil it would be them. Grant Ward was the specialist she chose for the mission, she needed someone insensitive and willing to follow orders no matter what the cost. She didn’t think she could trust herself to take out her own husband if things ever came to that so she needed someone that would. Grant Ward was perfect for that, he wasn’t at the funeral, didn’t know her connection to Coulson, and wouldn’t give it a second thought. 

She could tell Phil sensed the dark turn her thoughts were taking by the way he had begun stroking the bare skin of her side, having worked his hand under the hem of her shirt, and turned to press a kiss to her collar bone. She took a deep breath and shook the thoughts away. She was determined to not let it come to that. Even if it meant reporting on him every single day.

\-----

He was just finishing a call when she entered the house and by the look on his face it was the call telling him he was going to meet with Fury to discuss returning to the field.

“Yeah of course, thanks Maria. I will. Bye.” He smiled at Melinda as she approached and put his phone back down, “that was Maria, she said hi.” 

He was practically bouncing with excitement as he made his way to her, taking her face between his hands and kissing her with enthusiasm. She almost rolled her eyes at his telltale signs but settled for a soft smile instead. 

“So, what’d she say?” she prompted, knowing exactly what she said but he didn’t know that. 

“I have a meeting with Fury tomorrow, to discuss going back into the field! This may be bigger than before!” 

She really tried to look excited about it, to not crush his moment but she had so many other worries on her mind and Phil putting himself back in danger was at the top of that list. She knew it needed to happen, she would never ask him to do otherwise, that was who he was. But still, knowing everything that had gone into it, knowing her part in it, dampened what should have been an exciting moment. Phil had obviously noticed her apprehension. 

“I’m going to be fine Melinda. It’ll be great, you’ll see.” He smiled, taking her hands into his own.

“I’m sure it will be.” She smiled back, squeezing his hands in return. 

She tried her best to believe her words. There was so much he didn’t know, so much he couldn’t know but she knew getting him back out into the world would be the best thing for him. She would keep him safe where she could and hope he was careful where she couldn’t. She let his excitement radiate into her, unwilling to let his death ruin yet another moment for them. It could be great, it would be fine, she repeated to herself mentally. 

She tried to let the stress of the future fall away as he leaned in to kiss her again, excited for what the future had in store for him. This time next month they would be on a plane Phil would talk Fury into giving him, running their own missions, and she was hoping for the best. 

In that moment she was sure of two things: she loved Phil Coulson and she would do anything to keep him safe. 

(To be continued… Look out for part two: the prequel, next, and then part three: the continuation of this fic/canon series stuff, after that!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for all your support! I'm excited to see where this series takes me and I hope you guys are too!


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